


Feels Like Coming Home Again

by professionalmomfriend (mothmanwashere)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Hickies shaped like Kentucky, Humanstuck, It's porn but it's fluffy porn, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 09:23:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7971652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothmanwashere/pseuds/professionalmomfriend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's just,,, porn</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feels Like Coming Home Again

**Author's Note:**

> I'll probably regret posting this without proofreading.

Your name is Karkat Vantas and you’re finally home.

You drop your keys in the bowl just inside the front door and kick off your shoes, breathing a sigh of relief at being home again.  You spent the week at your aunt’s house upstate, which you enjoyed, but you missed Dave something awful.  He would have gone with you, but he had a series of meetings scheduled for this week he couldn’t get out of and had to stay behind.  The insufferable little twerp has gotten under your skin in a surprisingly agreeable fashion and you don’t feel much inclined to changing that.

The light is on in the kitchen to your left, flooding most of the apartment in a warm glow.  The television is dark and the apartment is quiet, so you move toward the bedroom looking for Dave.  It’s only just struck eleven, and you’re both night owls.

To your surprise, Dave’s asleep, curled against your pillow in just the flannel pajama pants he always sleeps in.  The light in the bedroom is still on, like he fell asleep waiting for you.  Your heart melts just a little.  You quietly set your bag down near the closet and flip off the light before returning to the kitchen. 

You crack open the fridge and pull out a slice of leftover pizza, no reheating necessary.

“Come here often, handsome?”

Your expression softens as you turn to see Dave behind you, smirking ever so slightly. 

“Did I wake you?”

“I was waiting for you,” he replies, not actually answering your question.  “How’s Mama Maryam?”

“Good.  She says hello, and that next time you’d better come with me.”

“Gladly,” Dave says, his smile widening into something happy and genuine.  “You were gone about seven days longer than I wish you were gone.”

You snort a laugh even though you wholeheartedly agree.  “Did you miss me?”

Dave closes the distance, pulling you into an affectionate embrace that you happily sink into.  “Missed you so fuckin’ much,” he murmurs against your ear before pressing a kiss on the spot where your ear meets your jaw.  The hum of bass against your ear sends a shiver down your spine and you pull your arms a little tighter around his waist.  “You tired?”

“You’re the one who was asleep,” you point out, a smile making its way onto your face.

“You’re here now,” Dave says lightly, running his thumb along the side of your neck.  “And I missed you a _lot._ ”  Dave pulls back, tracing his hands down your arms so he can lace your fingers together and press his lips against the back of your left hand.  “Come to bed.”

“Lemme brush my teeth first?”

Dave breaks into a grin.  “I’ll be waiting.”

You hurry to the bathroom, suddenly as anxious as a teenager.  You strip off your jeans and your sweatshirt, tossing them in the hamper and standing in just your boxers.  You brush your teeth and swish some mouthwash to get rid of the pizza flavor.  You wipe your face and examine your reflection in the mirror.  Your hair is as unruly as ever – probably worsened by the portion of your drive that you spent with the windows rolled down.  The bags under your eyes are permanent at this point – no amount of sleep or coffee gets rid of your perpetually exhausted visage.  You’re plagued by freckles, your eyes are uneven, your nose is bigger than you like.  You’re not attractive, but the man you love thinks you are, and damn if that isn’t the best feeling in the world.  You flip off the bathroom light and join Dave in the bedroom.

The main light is off, but Dave turned on the string lights that are hung above the window frame.  He’s waiting for you, lounging against the pillows in just those low-slung pajama pants, a flirtatious smirk painted across his face.  “All better?”

“Fresh and clean,” you reply, sliding into bed beside him.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Dave teases, rolling so he’s half on top of you, pressed against the left side of your chest.  His lips meet yours, gloriously soft and tasting vaguely of vanilla chapstick.  You part your lips almost reflexively and he fills the void, deepening the kiss.  It’s warm and familiar and _Dave_ and it stirs something deep inside you that floods your body with pure contentment.  He pulls back just far enough to wink at you.  “Minty.”

You kiss for an age in that slow, languid way, in no rush to reacquaint yourselves.  Dave shifts at one point so that he’s straddling your hips and grinding down in a blissfully infuriating manner.  He’s woven your fingers together again on both hands, pressing them into the pillow on either side of your head.  He has all of the advantage and you are one hundred percent okay with that if it means he’ll kiss you like this forever.

Forever, however, is even longer than the week you were gone, and eventually your kisses turn fiercer.  The intoxication of arousal lights a fire wherever your skin meets Dave’s.  Which, in your current state of undress, is almost everywhere.  Dave finds it suitable at this point to move lower, pressing passionate kisses along the line of your jaw and down your throat until he finds your collar bone.  This, Dave has found, is a sensitive spot.  Dave takes his time sucking a hickey into the skin just below your right shoulder (right beside the almost faded one he’d left a week ago), soothing the gentle bites with even gentler kisses as he looses one of his hands to skate gently across your left pectoral.  You’re breathing hard by the time he sits up, grinning cheekily down at you. 

“Not bad, if I do say so myself,” he says.  “Looks vaguely like Kentucky.”

“Literally the worst state you could have chosen for a hickey,” you say, bracing one arm around his back and rolling until you’re in the advantageous spot.  He makes a noise like he’s trying to sound disgruntled, but when your teeth scrape against the base of his throat it turns into undisguisable pleasure.  He is never quiet during sex – almost constant moans and hums emitting from his throat – and the sound goes straight to your dick.

Your hickey is quicker, neater than you know his was, and you move even lower, releasing slow, warm exhales against the gold piercings in his nipples.  His voice hitches higher for just a moment, which you take as an invitation to continue.  You roll one of the piercings against your tongue as you tweak the other between your fingers.  Dave breathes your name reverently, the hand resting at the back of your neck squeezes gently.  You lavish attention to Dave’s nipples – one, then the other – before continuing down, down, in your lazy journey toward your real destination.  When you reach the waistline of Dave’s pants, he stops you with a hand around your wrist.  You stop immediately, looking up at him.  He sits up, pulling you close to him again.  “You’re so good, babe, so fucking good to me,” he murmurs.  “But I gotta take care of you tonight.”

You search his gaze for a moment, ready to object and continue driving him out of his mind with pleasure, but something earnest in his gaze has you nodding, allowing him to take charge once more and press you back against the pillows.  He pauses for a moment – long enough to divest you of your boxers and himself of his pajama pants.  When he returns, it’s purely skin against skin and you love it – you love his skin against yours.  He settles in between your legs, lifting one until he can easily press a kiss against your knee.  He works his way up your leg, nibbling and sucking hickies up your thigh until you’re practically squirming beneath him.  “Fuck—Dave,” you whine, your voice cracking as his cheek brushes your swollen erection. 

Dave sucks one last hickey into the junction between your hip and thigh, then sets his sights on your straining cock.  He steadies you with his hand and parts his lips, half kissing, half sucking at the base of your cock, and all the air leaves your lungs at once.  He kisses up your shaft the same way he kissed up your thigh, teeth scraping just gently enough to drive you slowly mad.  “You’re gonna be the fucking dea–aaah, aah!”  You forget your complaint halfway through as he finally sinks his lips around you, taking your cock into the warm, wet confines of his mouth.  “Ohhhh fucking—fuck me,” you moan as Dave sucks you off with a practiced dip of the head. 

A glint enters his eyes as he pulls off of you just long enough to say, “We’ll get there, babe, don’t worry,” and resumes his task of fitting as much of your shaft into his mouth as he can.  Your hands curl in his hair, encouraging him as he moves up and down your length until you feel that familiar tightening in your balls and your grip on Dave’s hair tightens in accord.  “Dave,” you pant, breathless.  “Dave, I’m –”

He nods, speeding up the bob of his head and wrapping his hand just a bit tighter around the base of your dick.  You groan, your eyes squeezing shut as stars spin through your vision.  Dave swallows as you come, letting you ride out the aftershocks before pulling off and wiping drool and jizz off his face with the back of his wrist.  You pull him toward you and he follows, fitting your mouths back together easily.  He tastes like you, combined with the mint still residing on the back of your palate.  You grab the lube from the drawer with practiced ease, slicking a finger before you reach behind him and press a finger against his entrance.  He arches into you, jaw going a bit slack as you work him open.  “Yeah,” he breathes.  “Yeah, just like that.  Fuck, I missed you.”

It’s easy, even after a week without, and by the time you’re done slicking him up, he’s rutting shallowly against you, working you up almost to full mast in short order.  He shifts to straddle you, one arm braced against the headboard and one against the pillow beside your head.  You use one of your hands to hold yourself in place and the other to guide Dave onto you by the hip.  He sinks onto you slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until he’s fully seated and taking a moment to adjust.  When he’s ready, he starts slowly, rolling his hips and working back and forth.  “You’re so good, Karkat,” he whispers, reverent as he fucks himself on your arousal.  “Fuck, I love your cock so fucking much, oh god.”

You take in the vision that is Dave Strider during sex and wonder at your fortune to have him all to yourself.  His hair is a wreck – white blond in need of rebleaching flies in a dozen different directions, courtesy of you, just a few minutes ago.  When he isn’t talking, his bottom lip is tucked between his teeth, and his eyes are shut, like he’s focusing all his attention into the place where your bodies meet.  The bruise you left at the base of his throat is dark against his warm brown skin.  He’s a glorious, gorgeous wreck and he’s yours, yours, all yours.  You thrust your hips up to meet Dave halfway and he lets out a low moan.  “C’mon.  C’mon, babe.”

Dave rides you until his arms start shaking against the headboard and you pause, take a second to switch places and lay him out against the mattress, legs spread wide beneath you.  You pick up the pace when you resume, fucking Dave until there’s nothing but your name on his lips between strangled cries of pleasure.  You wrap your fingers around his cock and stroke him with a firm and even pace, leaning down to kiss him.  He cups your face with one hand and kisses you greedily, all adrenaline and arousal and unadulterated passion.  “Aah—ohgod, Karkat,” he groans, arching his back and breaking your kiss.  “Just like that, holyshit _yes_.”  You obey the command and jerk Dave’s cock faster.  Dave’s chest heaves with each thrust until he _shatters_ , back arching, fingernails scraping across your back, nearly screaming your name as he paints both your stomachs with his come.  You come a second time as he does, continuing to thrust shallowly until you’re both boneless and satisfied.  You pull out of him and fit yourself into his arms.  He tugs you closer, arm tightening behind you, and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.  “I love you,” he says quietly, his chest still heaving.

“I love you too,” you reply, as easy as breathing.

You lie there some minutes more, content to remain tangled together, skin against skin.  Eventually, you both rise to rinse the stickiness off of you before sleep claims you both.  You shower together and kiss languidly under the spray, but you’re both tired and get out as soon as you’re clean.  You slip back into bed and back into each other’s arms, letting the warm, familiar weight of Dave beside you lull you into sweet, dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Dave didn't run his mouth nearly enough in this fic, I'm losing my touch man.
> 
> Questions, comments, concerns, detailed critiques, and any pictures of cacti can be sent to actualmomlalonde.tumblr.com


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